


Lahar's Punishment

by SnowfallBreeze (friendlyneighborhoodfairy)



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Dom/sub Play, Doranbolt likes to watch, Lahar has so many kinks, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Office Sex, Public Masturbation, Punishment, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, my mind IS the gutter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7988329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodfairy/pseuds/SnowfallBreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After fucking with (or, more correctly, getting fucked by) Freed Justine of Fairy Tail, Lahar is plagued with guilt over violating his principles. So he asks Doranbolt to punish him. Kinky smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Night

The first night of Lahar's punishment was perfect.

"Deeper," Doranbolt rasped huskily above him. Wood creaked where Doranbolt's back was pressed against the door to Lahar's chambers. On his knees, Lahar grabbed the man's ass and took his dick in his mouth all the way to the base, throat relaxing around that thick cock. Doranbolt wasn't a tall or imposing man, but Lahar had discovered he made up for the size elsewhere.

When Lahar swallowed tentatively, Doranbolt let out an eager grunt and thrust in, making Lahar's eyes water. The brief sense of choking made his own cock tighten, the throbbing almost painful. One of his hands trailed down to the front of his own pants.

"No," Doranbolt hissed through his pleasure. He wrenched on Lahar's hair to drag his head back and entered so deep that for one sweet second, Lahar couldn't breathe.

Obediently he pulled his hand away from himself. Had his mouth not been filled with the man, he would've uttered his obedience aloud.

Lahar had begged for Doranbolt to discipline him. _I let one of the Fairy Tail wizards fuck me. Please._ Doranbolt had made sure Lahar knew what that entailed. That he was truly consenting. Lahar nearly came just discussing it.

When he yanked Doranbolt's pants the rest of the way to his ankles, Lahar wrapped his hands around Doranbolt's muscular thighs, tongue and lips doing what they could. Doranbolt crashed into him over and over. He loved when Doranbolt's balls hit his chin.

"Yes!" Doranbolt cried. "Fuck yes."

Lahar moaned.

Doranbolt's fingernails dug into Lahar's skull and pulled him close, so his nose was immersed Doranbolt's sweaty hair and Doranbolt's dick practically rubbed his tonsils. Gods, yes. Lahar swallowed around his cock again, more confident, and Doranbolt gasped.

Cum filled Lahar's mouth and his eyes watered as he hurriedly gulped, exhilarated. Gazing up, he caught sight of Doranbolt's closed eyes and transfixed expression, letting out a whimper, shifting so his cock rubbed inside his pants. Fuck.

Lahar swallowed it all. Doranbolt tasted salty and thick, and when Lahar next looked up, Doranbolt was watching him with a satisfied smile. He pulled his pants back up and ran his fingers Lahar's hair.

"Did you come?" he asked.

Lahar shook his head.

"Good."

Dropping into a crouch, he forced Lahar onto his back and straddled his thighs, pinning him. With a few sharp tugs, he pulled Lahar's clothes away, exposed him. From muscled stomach to pale thighs, cock standing hard as the centerpiece.

Doranbolt's hungry eyes made him shudder. It was like the man wanted to devour him.

Lahar's dick felt more swollen than it had ever been before. More swollen than when he'd made love with Freed, that damnable beautiful wizard who was just so flirtatious and bookishly attractive...who had so passionately fucked him behind a medical supply tent on his last assignment. The reason for his punishment.

Doranbolt ran a finger slowly around down Lahar's shaft and fondled his balls. He grinned at the sounds Lahar made. He shifted and gave Lahar's dick one long, sensuous lick. Lahar's back arched. He'd been waiting so long now that even the tiniest touch hurt his oversensitive cock.

But Doranbolt didn't let him cum, didn't bring him release. Pulling Lahar's ripped robes open, he lay down beside him. One of Doranbolt's strong legs draped across Lahar's naked ones protectively. The cloth of Doranbolt's jeans itched Lahar's thighs.

Doranbolt ran his fingers lightly over Lahar's chest, nuzzled against him, and kissed his ear softly.

"You're doing so well," he murmured.

Somehow, that made Lahar radiate a joy more intense than ejaculating—though he almost did that, too. Doranbolt continued petting him and kissing him, flirting and whispering encouragements. He sucked on Lahar's nipple, discovered how much the mage liked it. All the while not touching anything below Lahar's waist.

He was exposed and hard and the flirtations were agony.

Finally Doranbolt whispered, "Now jerk yourself off."

Doranbolt watched. Lahar felt heat all over his body as eyes observed his every movement. He'd never done this in front of anyone—hell, even having sex usually made him feel dirty. Impure, like he was sullying his ability to pass unbiased judgment.

But now he groaned and gasped under his own ministrations while Doranbolt's greedy gaze lapped him up.

Fluid spewed across his stomach. He was spent. Doranbolt cleaned him off possessively, even swiped a finger through the cum and licked it. He kissed Lahar roughly, Doranbolt's tongue penetrating his mouth and possessing him. Lahar tasted himself on Doranbolt's breath.

Doranbolt eventually pulled away.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," he grinned, kissing Lahar's forehead in surprising gentleness.

He left a naked Lahar sprawled atop his torn robes. He knew Doranbolt had gone lightly on him. Deepthroating wasn't exactly torturous. On the other hand, it wasn't exactly his usual nighttime activity.

For the first time, he wasn't spending the evening thinking about Freed Justine—about Freed entering him, about Freed's beautiful face as he came, with his green hair slicked back and muscles standing out on his chest.

He was thinking about tomorrow night and what Doranbolt was planning to do to him.

Lying on his back staring at the ceiling, Lahar's panting was the only sound in the silent Council office.


	2. Final Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rougher smut, with a surprise ending...

Lahar had just finished filing away the last of his papers when the door creaked open. His heart leapt even before he saw who it was.

"Is someone ready to please me?" Doranbolt's low voice queried.

"Yes." Lahar was hoarse and he was embarrassed to realize he was practically panting. His eyes shone with expectation. This was the last night of his punishment. Each had been progressively more exhilarating. Doranbolt would make tonight good.

As he closed the door, Doranbolt motioned Lahar to his feet. Doranbolt didn't say anything, didn't ask for anything. In this room, he was the master. He could have whatever he wanted.

Lahar stood before him trembling. Doranbolt tied Lahar's shaking hands. Lahar caught the dark eyes checking him out, making sure Lahar was still willing.

Lahar was so willing. He would've signed away his consent on Doranbolt's cock with his tongue. The fact Doranbolt would look at him like that was almost a letdown.

But when Doranbolt finished the knot, he shoved Lahar into the wall in a single, rough move, pinning him there with one hand while he palmed the bulge in Lahar's robes.

Because Lahar's cock had already gotten heavy with anticipation.

Doranbolt grabbed Lahar's shaft in a grip that was just a little too tight. He began rubbing Lahar hard, so hard it ached, so that he was gasping in seconds. The taut cloth was rubbing abrasions into his skin under Doranbolt's hand.

Just as suddenly, Doranbolt stopped. He grabbed Lahar's shoulders, spun him around, and pulled up his robes from behind. With his hands bound, Lahar could do nothing in protest. He quivered under the predatory gaze and cold air. His bare ass was open to Doranbolt to do whatever he desired.

Doranbolt took a step back to stare at the trembling Lahar from head to toe.

"You're at my mercy. Say it."

"I'm at your mercy, Doranbolt-sama."

Lahar quivered again when several fingers entered him, scissoring. He grit his teeth against the pain: too many, too soon. Doranbolt only spent a minute there, tantalizing him as his fingers grazed that perfect spot, then pulled out.

Lahar whimpered.

Lahar heard an unzipping sound behind him. Without warning, Doranbolt's penis, thick and long and heavy, entered him. One deep plunge.

Doranbolt only used a condom; he didn't bother with lube.

Pain radiated from his hole. Lahar let out a cry. He wasn't sure if it was the throbbing or the incongruent ecstasy forcing the strained sounds from his throat.

Doranbolt breathed hot gusts across his neck. Still inside him, Doranbolt pushed forcefully on Lahar's shoulders, bending him over his Council-requisitioned desk.

Then his master started thrusting.

Lahar's bare thighs hit the desk. Bang, bang, bang. He could feel the bruises he was going to have tomorrow, a pair to match the ones from yesterday. Doranbolt had laid him flat out on his back on his desk and fucked him blind, thumping Lahar hard across the wood for an hour. Doranbolt could certainly hold out.

Today, Lahar had had to do most of his work standing, and when he did sit, achingly, he had to keep himself straight, back too tender to touch the chair.

Doranbolt's grunts were thick with pleasure now. Lahar groaned against the desk. Doranbolt thrust faster, the movement sloppy so that even after being entered and fucked every night this week, Lahar still stretched with each burst.

Sitting down would hurt for days.

A hand on Lahar's back bent him further over the piece of furniture. Lahar's dick was now rubbing the edge every time the other man pushed into him. It hurt. Beautifully. The sharp edge of his desk slid against his cock, the surface becoming slick with precum.

This was where he handled official Council business. Where justice was served. And now—

Chastise me, he thought desperately. He let his mind wander back to that short encounter in the dark, to Freed entering him with all the softness and gentleness Lahar had asked Doranbolt to withhold. To letting desire overcome justice and truth, right and wrong.

His greatest, aching, orgasmic failure.

This was so much better.

He was moaning too much to form words. Please, Doranbolt-sama. Make me pay.

Doranbolt gripped Lahar's hips in harsh hands, fingers digging into the skin. As if in answer to his silent pleas, Doranbolt whispered in his ear, "I'm going to make you scream."

Nails raked long lines down his back. Lahar shuddered at the pleasure that surged through him and clenched around Doranbolt's cock. His already sore ass bucked at the sudden jolt of pain.

His voice jumped an octave as he moaned through numb, breathless lips, "Deeper."

The word echoed Doranbolt's own from their first night.

Doranbolt grabbed his hair and yanked Lahar's head to the side. Lahar's single window, dark with the nighttime sky beyond, reflected back to him an image of the two men's carnal performance.

Doranbolt stood there, pants on but shirt off, exposing an array of tense muscles as he pounded into Lahar. Lahar's robes were scrunched up around his waist, making him look like a quick, backalley fuck, baring his ass for a few fast jewels. Except the image was darker than that, because Lahar's hands were bound and his body at Doranbolt's mercy.

Doranbolt shifted his feet and began thrusting in greater strokes, pulling completely out before driving back in again. Lahar cried out. Pain is rapturous. He watched the reflection of Doranbolt's huge dick every time it pulled out, then felt the next thrust like a log up his ass.

He gave a strangled shriek.

Doranbolt forced Lahar's robes over his head so they pooled around his bound hands, stripping him naked and bare. Lahar felt exposed. Vulnerable. Doranbolt had all the power as he took Lahar from behind.

"You're mine," Doranbolt growled.

"Fuck—yes—!"

At that, Doranbolt's nails dug into him again, into already purple bruises, and Lahar felt them draw blood. Lahar let out a strangled noise.

Doranbolt slipped a hand around to Lahar's chest and tweaked one of his nipples, making Lahar moan. The sudden pleasure rolling through his body felt like a wave breaking over him. It was surprising.

But then Doranbolt took both of Lahar's nipples with his nails, digging in and twisting. Fuck.

Before Lahar could process this new pain, Doranbolt drove into him one final time. Lahar's tenuous grip on the desk broke and his forehead hit the wood. His dick crashed into the sharp edge, breaking him open.

Lahar screamed.

Doranbolt threw his head back in pleasure. His face contorted. With his cock deep inside Lahar, he exploded.

The pressure rocketed more pain through Lahar's back. He screamed again, the sound mixing with Doranbolt's cry of release.

Lahar's cock bucked and wetness hit his stomach. With his dick trapped against the sharp edge of the desk, ejaculating hurt, pressure ripping through broken places. He found himself whimpering as cum dripped down his legs. A warm hand stroked a circle into his lower back.

Doranbolt gently pulled out and let up the pressure on Lahar's back. He was always gentle after he was done.

Lahar's legs were shaking too much to stand, so he stayed where he was, chest and head resting on the desk. He found he was crying. Everything hurt.

Something soft rubbed across his throbbing anus. Doranbolt wiped him off with slow strokes. Then he bent over Lahar, his hot, sweaty chest pressed against his back.

"It's okay," Doranbolt soothed. "You did well."

He turned Lahar's head toward him, gentle now, and wiped a tear off his cheek. Doranbolt was smiling, his lips slightly parted as his breath still came fast and deep. With a thrill, Lahar realized how pleasured Doranbolt was. How happy Doranbolt was with him.

Doranbolt removed Lahar's bonds and helped him to lie down on the desk still naked. Doranbolt's pants still hung open and unzipped and Lahar saw Doranbolt getting hard again—or maybe he was still hard. Doranbolt had demonstrated stamina he hadn't thought possible.

When Doranbolt smiled at him, Lahar grinned back shyly. His punishment was over, but…

"Come back tomorrow night?" he asked. A week ago, he would've been ashamed at the broken begging in his voice, but not anymore.

Doranbolt massaged Lahar's back. Even the light touch was painful on his bruises.

"You need a few days to recover, darling. This week had a lot of firsts for you and I'm not cruel. But," Doranbolt smiled, "may I take you out for dinner tomorrow?"

Lahar swallowed, startled out of himself. Without thinking, he ran a finger over Doranbolt's scar and down his cheek.

"Yes," he said, amazed at his own words. But this was okay, good, allowed...and, he realized, something he wanted. Doranbolt knew his kinks, knew what he liked. And Doranbolt was with the Council, so this wasn't a betrayal of Lahar's loyalties. Plus, they were already working side by side in other ways... For once, Lahar's desires weren't getting him into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise ending! Those of you who know more about these characters can appreciate the irony and pathos... I know I made Doranbolt basically a sex god in this fic; what can I say, the man is hot. And Lahar is totally a bottom, you can't persuade me otherwise.


End file.
